


No.24 Memory Loss

by LiGi



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [24]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Best Friends, Caring Merlin (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, Memory Loss, Men Crying, Past Mind Control, Post-Episode s04e09: Lancelot du Lac, can be mercelot, no 24
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29699865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Febuwhump 2021 day 24 - Memory LossMerlin manages to save Lancelot from being a shade, but Lancelot is having trouble remembering things from his former life.
Relationships: Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137632
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	No.24 Memory Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by the lovely Onehelluvapilot, who is also writing excellent febuwhumps. Go and read them too, they are great!

Lancelot was sitting on the edge of Merlin’s bed, his hands clasped behind his head, which was pulled down low to his chest. His shoulders were shaking. Merlin longed to reach out to him. To touch him. But Lancelot flinched every time anyone got too close. Instead he sat down in the chair beside the bed, pulling his pillow into his lap and hugging it.

“Lancelot?” he said softly.

Slowly his friend raised his head. His dark eyes, which were brimming with tears, met Merlin’s for a fraction of a second before dipping down again. Merlin’s heart ached.

It was two weeks since Merlin had managed to free Lancelot’s soul from Morgana’s control, and several days since Lancelot had properly spoken. He was having trouble remembering things. Things that should have been second nature to him, memories that had shaped who he was as a person.

Morgana had given him enough knowledge to pass as the Lancelot they had all known, but she didn’t know how to make him the real Lancelot. Gaius thought that his true memories might be buried somewhere deep within his mind and that with time they would resurface, but for the moment the other knights and Merlin were just trying to fill in as many blanks as they could.

Unfortunately, spending large chunks of time being told things that he should have already known – wracking his brain for the memories that should have been there to link up with the stories the knights told him – was taking its toll on the newly resurrected man. He often retreated to Merlin’s rooms to hide from the others, and more often than not Merlin discovered him weeping into his hands.

Like now. Merlin dragged his chair closer, so his knee was almost touching Lancelot’s, his hands gripping tight to the pillow in his lap to stop them from reaching out to his friend.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Lancelot shook his head, not looking up. He let out a shuddery sigh.

“It’s too much…” he rasped out, his voice breaking as tears washed down his face. He pressed his hands to his eyes, gulping back the sobs threatening to overtake him again. “I’ve lost too much. I’m not me anymore.”

“Lancelot.” Merlin slowly reached forwards, he couldn’t help himself, his hand hovering over Lancelot’s for a second before he grasped it. Lancelot jerked slightly, an involuntary habit he had developed ever since he came back, and then his hand tensed in Merlin’s, latching on and holding tight as if it was a lifeline.

“I don’t remember…” He gulped. “I don’t remember who I am.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re the noblest knight. You’re Arthur’s champion, Leon’s right hand man. You’re Percival’s confidante. You’re Gwaine’s partner and Elyan’s anchor. You’re –”

Lancelot cut him off before he could say any more.

“I’m _not_ those things anymore. I _was_ … but now…” Fresh tears streamed down his face.

“You’ll always be my best friend,” Merlin argued, shuffling forwards in the chair so his knees bumped Lancelot’s, his other hand coming up to cup his shoulder, holding him steady as he flinched. “No matter what. And all of the rest is still in your heart.”

Stiffly, Lancelot leant forwards, leaning more into Merlin’s touch, his forehead almost touching Merlin’s.

Up close, Merlin could see the turmoil swirling in his dark eyes, the usual deep intensity of his gaze marred by confusion and sorrow. He’d give anything to clear the fog of doubt from Lancelot’s mind.

“I can’t find it… I’m too empty, too hollow, Merlin. I feel so hollow.”

“No,” Merlin said firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re _not_ hollow.” He put as much weight into his voice as he could, desperate to make Lancelot believe in himself as much as he did. “You’ll find yourself again, I promise.”

Lancelot gave Merlin’s hand a squeeze, letting his forehead come to rest against his friend’s.

“Tell me something, Merlin,” he pleaded. “Tell me something I should know. Something important. Please.” His voice was desperate.

Merlin bit his lip, feeling his eyes start to prickle with tears. He’d been yearning to tell Lancelot about his magic again, but had held off so far because he felt it was too big of a weight to place around Lancelot’s already unsteady shoulders. Too much to take in among the torrents of uncertainty that clouded his memory.

“Please, Merlin,” he begged and Merlin’s resolve collapsed.

“I have magic,” he whispered. Lancelot didn’t respond and Merlin couldn’t stop himself from rambling on. “You were the only one of my friends here who knew. You always stood by me. I didn’t have to lie around you. I miss that so much…” His voice caught in the lump in his throat. He let out a sob, pressing against Lancelot, grasping his shoulder, sliding his hand up to the back of his neck.

“ _Bregdan anweald_ …” Lancelot breathed. It was so quiet Merlin almost thought he had imagined it; his memory supplying the phrase from the first time Lancelot had muttered it to him, in the corridor outside the throne room, so happy, so accepting.

But Lancelot’s face had frozen, a glint of recognition in his eyes, even as he pulled back from Merlin to study his face intently.

“What was…?” His eyes darted anxiously between Merlin’s, like he was desperately grasping for answers.

“Say that again,” Merlin murmured, shifting forwards to the edge of his seat, a bubble of excitement swelling in his chest.

“I can’t…. I don’t know….” He looked confused, like the words had been drawn from his subconscious and he couldn’t quite catch them again.

“ _Bregdan anweald gafeluc_ ,” Merlin said, his heart hammering.

“ _Bregdan_ …” Lancelot repeated, wonder filled his voice and a true smile broke over his face. “Y-You have magic,” he said shakily, happily. It wasn’t a question. It was a memory, stated with certainty.

“Yes!”

Merlin threw himself forwards into Lancelot’s arms. Lancelot tensed briefly but quickly relaxed and pulled him closer, gripping the back of Merlin’s shirt.

“I remember…” he huffed out a tiny laugh into the crook of Merlin’s neck. “The griffin… the lance…”

“Yes,” was all Merlin could mutter, again and again. “Yes!”

Lancelot tightened his arms around Merlin’s back, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Thank you, Merlin. For trusting me.”

“Of course.” Eventually, they leant back from the hug, their hands still resting on each other’s shoulders. Merlin met Lancelot’s gaze, pleased to see it had a spark of happiness in it now. “I’ll always trust you, Lancelot. And I’ll help you remember yourself, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love any and all comments!


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